


The End of an Era

by helsinkibaby



Category: West Wing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2148492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginger knows today is the end of an era.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of an Era

**Author's Note:**

> For pocky-slash’s West Wing Tertiary Characters ficathon

Today, Ginger knows, is the end of an era.

Today, at precisely twelve noon, Eastern Standard Time, Matthew Santos was sworn in as President of the United States of America.

Jed Bartlet is no longer the President, is on his way home to New Hampshire, and Ginger is sitting in her apartment with a bottle of wine, watching the retrospectives on the television.

She supposes that’s a little pathetic, that she should be out with all the rest of the West Wing assistants who, like her, started off on the Bartlet for America campaign; the ones who, like her, have managed to survive eight years of fairly hectic if not hellish long days and short nights. They should be out, drinking, dancing, bookmarking the end of that most monumental of all achievements, surviving the Bartlet Administration – she thinks Margaret was only joking about getting t-shirts printed up, but then again, this is Margaret, so you never really know.

But Margaret is at home with her baby, and while Carol and Bonnie went out somewhere, she didn’t feel like going with them.

Because today is the end of an era of her life that she really loved, and she’s not so sure she wants to celebrate that.

Besides, another part of her knows that things really ended for her months earlier, when the President fired Toby.

It still makes her boggle sometimes, that no-one knew it was him until he admitted it. That people suspected CJ, or Leo or even Will of leaking the information. She’d known straight away it was Toby, known it like she’d known her own name, like she knew his handwriting. Of course it was Toby who leaked the existence of the shuttle to save astronaut’s lives – he couldn’t do anything to save David, so he was saving someone else. It was pure Toby – why didn’t anyone else see that?

She thinks maybe they didn’t want to see it, but that was always part of her relationship with Toby, part of the problem maybe. She knew him, even the parts that he didn’t want her to know.

Scratch that, she thinks now, as she pours herself another glass of wine. That wasn’t part of their problem, that was their problem.

The fact that she knew him, knew he was still in love with Andi, even when he was sharing her bed.

Knew that while there was a part of him that wanted to be with her, wanted to make their relationship public, he never would. Not when it could bring shame on the Bartlet Administration, not while it could provide fodder for their enemies. Ironic considering where they are now, but then again, Toby is a complicated man.

A man who allows his ex-wife to go through IVF with his sperm, even though he’s sharing another woman’s bed, her bed. Who tells her all about his wonderful twins, but never lets her meet them.

A man who allows her to walk away from him, because he agrees with her when she tells him she’s worth more than this, more than hiding what they are.

A man who let her go, even though she knows whenever he looks at her, he regrets it.

A man who’s probably sitting in his apartment across town, looking at these same retrospectives, wondering what could have been, as he awaits the latest court papers, the latest sentencing report.

The one thing she and Andi ever agreed on was that he was too stubborn for his own good.

The phone rings, startling her out of her reverie, and she reaches for it blindly, doesn’t even bother to check the called ID. “Hello?”

“Ginger? It’s Will.”

She blinks in some surprise, not quite sure why Will Bailey would be calling her at this hour of the night. “Why aren’t you out with Kate somewhere?” she asks, wine overcoming her better judgement, and in the split second of silence that follows her question, she can hear noise from behind him, realises that that’s exactly where he is.

“Kate?” Will blusters, and she can almost picture his expression, slightly panicked, vaguely alarmed. “Why would I be…”

“Oh come on Will… you think we didn’t know?”

She keeps her tone light, teasing, and it’s easier than she thought it would be. Will always was lots of fun to tease, if only because he got flustered so easily. “Point taken,” he allows. “How do you women do it?”

He speaks in wonder, and she laughs her first genuine laugh of the night. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

There’s a chuckle from the other end of the line, then a clearing of the throat. “Look, I thought you might like to know something… something that’s not going to hit the press until tomorrow.”

Ginger puts down her glass of wine, sits up and holds her breath. In eight years, that kind of opening has never once heralded good news.

“The President added a name to the pardon list.”

She waits for him to say who it was, but he doesn’t, and then the penny drops and her breath catches in her throat. “You mean…”

“I do.” He sounds like he’s smiling. “I wanted to tell that news to at least one person who’d be happy about it.”

“Thank you.” She’s never meant anything more, and while it’s on the tip of her tongue to ask him why he thought of her, she’s not going to ask. Maybe she’s afraid of what she’ll hear, or maybe it’s because she thinks that if she speaks, she’ll burst into tears.

“Yeah, well…” Will’s voice is very quiet, more so than she’s ever heard it. “I thought you’d like to know. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He hangs up then, and she finds herself staring at the phone, cycling through the numbers until she comes to Toby’s.

She stares at it for a long time, wondering if she should call him.

Finally, she presses the button, and when he answers, she simply says, “It’s me.”

There’s a long pause.

Then –

“I was wondering if you’d call.”

She can tell he’s smiling, that small little turn-up-at-the-edge-of-his-lips Toby smile that made her weak at the knees, that always made her want to smile back, and she leans back against the couch cushions, retrospectives forgotten.

Tonight is the end of an era, it’s true.

But endings bring a new beginning, and she can’t wait to see where they go from here.  



End file.
